


To Serve and Protect

by zebraljb



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, M/M, Meet-Cute, Tailor Harry Hart, missing pet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22862779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: Eggsy is new to the force and therefore is given the task of speaking to tailor Harry Hart about his missing dog.  The other detectives think the entire thing is a joke but Eggsy takes the case - and Harry Hart - very seriously..I did some research on the British police ranks and all that, but if it is a wee bit too American, I apologize.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 25
Kudos: 208





	To Serve and Protect

**Author's Note:**

> So I had carpal tunnel surgery on my right hand five days ago. It has taken me four days to write what normally takes me a few hours (due to the splint) and I know I probably missed some typos. Please forgive me. Also, I know the case is solved quickly and all, but meet cute!!!
> 
> Rated Teen for language.

“Detective Sergeant Unwin…so nice of you to join us.”

Eggsy Unwin winces as he slowly turns around. “Good morning, Merlin.”

“Couldn’t find your favorite tie again?” Eggsy’s boss raises his eyebrows as he looks Eggsy over. A few of the other detectives snicker at their desks.

Eggsy defensively runs a hand over his neatly pressed shirt and blue tie. He’s new to the department and still takes pride in his appearance. He then clears his throat and allows his eyes to make an exaggerated run over the tall form of his supervisor. Head shaven bare, sharp jawline covered by a five o’clock shadow at eight in the morning. Wrinkled white shirt with the sleeves cuffed to his forearms, black tie loosened and slightly askew. Worn leather shoulder holsters and black trousers that looked as if Merlin’s been wearing them for days. In all actuality (Eggsy would never admit this) Merlin is just his type. Eggsy’s always had a thing for older blokes, and there’s something about the danger in Merlin’s hazel eyes that intrigues him. But first and foremost Merlin is his superior.

So Eggsy simply says, “And I see you couldn’t find the iron again.”

The other detectives burst out laughing and Eggsy can’t keep a small smile from his face. “You think you’re so cute, don’t you, Unwin?” Merlin’s face is unreadable.

“Not really, Merlin, no.” Eggsy drops his coat at his desk, grabs his mug, and heads for the coffeemaker. “Wait…who made coffee today?”

“Morton,” someone calls out.

“Thank God,” Eggsy mumbles. Some of the detectives definitely didn’t get their jobs due to their coffee making skills.

He’s stirring milk into his coffee when Roxy Morton ambles over. “Late night?” She teases, gently bumping her hip against his.

“Not the way you think. My mum has the flu and I was watching my little sister. She’s still not used to sleeping at my new flat and had a hard time falling asleep.”

“How old is she?”

“Four,” Eggsy says, proudly pulling out his mobile and showing a few photos. He’s been with the force a short time and Roxy is the only person he feels he can consider a friend.

“She’s darling!”

“Yeah,” Eggsy says fondly.

“That your brat?”

Roxy turns to glare at the tall man reaching for the pot of coffee. “That’s his sister, Charlie.”

“Oh. Know that’s how they do things in Unwin’s neck of the woods…different girl every night, kid in every flat. Let me guess…you and your sister got different dads, am I right?”

“Fuck off, Charlie!” Roxy snarls before Eggsy can even open his mouth.

“Aw, got the girl standing up for you…how sweet,” Charlie coos. Eggsy’s hand clenches into a fist. 

“Hesketh, aren’t you supposed to be on the road by now?” Merlin growls from across the room.

“Yes, Merlin.” Charlie gives Eggsy one last arrogant smirk before walking away.

“Prick,” Eggsy mutters. He heads for his desk and logs onto his computer. 

Merlin’s desk phone rings and he grunts a greeting. “Again? You can’t be serious. Doesn’t he have a fucking job other than harassing us?” Merlin glares at his pencil. “All right, send him back.” Merlin hangs up and grins at Eggsy. Eggsy doesn’t trust that grin. “Unwin.”

“Yes, Merlin?”

“There is a Mr. Hart waiting for you in Room One.”

A few men groan. Others laugh. Even Roxy gives him a sympathetic look. “A Mr. Hart?” Eggsy straightens his tie and grabs his notebook.

“Yes. It seems Mr. Hart’s dog has gone missing. He apparently doesn’t think we’ve done our job after his original report, so he checks in repeatedly. It’s your turn to meet with him.”

Eggsy takes the folder Merlin holds out. “Anything I need to know, sir?”

“Just tell him the department is doing everything we can, whatever you need to say to get him out of here,” Merlin says.

“Yes, sir,” Eggsy sighs. 

“Have fun!” Digby calls out from across the room.

“Wanker,” Eggsy mumbles to himself. He tugs at his shirt sleeves and straightens his tie again as he strides down the corridor. He makes sure to give everyone he sees a cheery ‘good morning.’ Quite a few of the other detectives have a nasty reputation with the other staff, and he’s determined not to be categorized with that lot. He knocks on the door of the conference room before opening it. “Good morning, Mr. Hart,” he says brusquely, trying to sound mature and experienced.

“Ah, you’re new.” The man’s tone is polite yet sad. “I suppose everyone else is quite tired of me.” The man stands to shake Eggsy’s hand and Eggsy gapes stupidly at him. Mr. Hart is a handsome man in his late forties or early 50s, with dark perfect hair, warm brown eyes, and a posh lilt to his voice. He’s slim and tall in his well-fitting suit, and his legs seem to go on for ages. “I’m Harry Hart.” His eyes run over Eggsy and don’t seem to mind what they see.

“Yes,” Eggsy says dumbly. “I mean, good to meet you, Mr. Hart. I am Detective Unwin.” He sits down and opens the file. “Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”

“I’m sure your coworkers have told you all about me.”

“No, actually…this is the first I’ve ever heard your name,” Eggsy says honestly. He’s been on the force for a few months but had to go through a lot of training seminars. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear the story from you, Mr. Hart.” Eggsy closes the folder and leans back in his chair.

The older man’s face softens. “Harry, please,” he says almost shyly.

“Would you care for tea, Harry?”

“No, thank you.” Harry sighs. “My dog, Mr. Pickle, went missing a fortnight ago.”

“What kind of dog is he?”

“A cairn terrier,” Harry says, sounding surprised. “Grey, brown, and black…I’m sure I provided a photo…”

“Do you have one on your mobile?” Eggsy asks.

Harry looks even more surprised. “Yes, of course.” He fishes the phone from his pocket. “Here…from an outing at the park.”

Eggsy swipes through the pictures. “Charming little fellow.”

“He is. Just turned six there…we were having a party.” Harry blushes and grabs his phone back. “I suppose you think it’s quite silly, having a party for one’s dog.”

“Not at all,” Eggsy replies. “Always wanted a dog myself…couldn’t have one where I grew up.”

“Dogs are amazing creatures, and Mr. Pickle is my best friend,” Harry says softly.

“Can you describe what happened when he disappeared?”

“It was the strangest thing. He’s very well behaved…I never had a problem taking him out. He never pulled at the leash or anything. But one day I opened the door to fetch the paper from the stoop and he darted out like a shot.” Harry’s face is pure misery. “I have no clue what caught his attention and made him bolt. I called after him but he kept going.”

“You didn’t chase him?”

“I was in my dressing gown and slippers,” Harry says, as if that explains everything. Eggsy supposes it does; obviously Harry is a man of class and wealth. Eggsy would have chased his dog in his pants if necessary. “By the time I got dressed he was long gone. I spoke with every neighbor I could, put up advertisements, but no one seems to know anything.”

“Is Mr. Pickle worth anything?” Eggsy asks. “Other than sentimental value, that is. Is he a show dog, or…”

“No,” Harry says sadly. “Just a dear companion.”

Eggsy now opens the file. “It looks like we’ve contacted the shelters, had the officers check the neighborhood for strays or…accident victims” Eggsy finishes softly. Harry visibly shudders. “I’m afraid we haven’t come up with anything, Harry.”

“Because you really haven’t been looking,” Harry finishes for him. “I realize you all think this is a big joke. A doddering old man crying about his pet. Animals go missing in this city every day. I realize that. But they’re not my dog. This IS my dog, and I cannot stop until I know. One way or another.”

Eggsy takes a deep breath and closes the folder. “First of all, Harry, you are not a doddering old man. Secondly, of course you’re concerned. This is your companion. I will not let this go until I have an answer for you. You have my word.”

Harry smiles for the first time and it takes Eggsy’s breath away. “I believe you, Detective Unwin.”

“A few questions…is there anyone in the neighborhood who watches Mr. Pickle for you…someone he might know well?”

“Yes…a neighbor, Violet Parsons. She lives around the corner on the next street and watches him if I must go out of town for work. I spoke to her and she said she hasn’t seen him. I spoke to her the day after his flight…she’s on holiday right now.”

“And is there anyone else in your home who might have any idea as to his whereabouts?” Eggsy knows the answer to this but asks anyway. If he’s going to develop love at first sight for a citizen, he might as well know everything about him. “A wife, or…or…a boyfriend?”

“Neither, I’m afraid.” Harry blushes and shyly dips his head. “I’m quite alone.”

“I see.” Eggsy smiles at him as they stand. “I meant what I said, Harry. I will do everything in my power to find your dog.”

“I appreciate that more than you know, Detective Unwin.” Harry shakes his hand but holds it a few seconds longer than necessary. 

Eggsy comes close to asking Harry to call him by his first name, but remembers himself just in time. This isn’t a date. It’s his job. “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything,” he says instead.

“Thank you. I’m at my tailor shop nine to six every day but Wednesday, so you may reach me on my mobile. I know my way out. Have a good day.” Harry gives him one last beautiful smile before leaving the room.

Eggsy wakes up the next morning with Harry on his mind. That’s no surprise, as he’d fallen asleep with Harry on his mind. He’d also eaten dinner with Harry on his mind and ridden home from work on the Tube with Harry on the mind. Some of it was the case itself; he did care about finding Mr. Pickle. But if he’s being completely honest with himself, it’s Harry he’s thinking about. Gorgeous and posh, sweet and just adorable. 

Eggsy’s actually daydreaming about what kind of kisser Harry might be when Merlin joins him on the lift. “Morning, Unwin.”

“Good morning, Detective Inspector McNair,” Eggsy says respectfully.

Merlin gives him an odd look before finally saying, “What do you want?”

“Sir?”

“You never call me by my title.”

“You told me you preferred to be called by your first name.”

“I did. I just…” Merlin wipes a hand over his face as the lift doors open. “Was there something you wanted, Unwin?”

“No. Well…” Eggsy fidgets a bit and Merlin made an impatient motion with his hand. “I was wondering if we had anything over in South Kensington that needed looking into.”

“I haven’t seen the board yet, but…” Merlin stops walking. “Is this about Hart and the dog?”

“Well, yes…from the looks of it no one’s been over there for over a week…figured it wouldn’t hurt to stroll through the neighborhood.” Eggsy stands up straight and tries to look responsible. “That is, if you don’t need me for something else…”

“I’m sure I can do without you just this once,” Merlin says sarcastically. “I’m not promising anything, but I’ll look into it.”

“Thank, you, sir.”

“You do realize that dog was either stolen or run over, correct?”

“I think Mr. Hart deserves peace of mind.”

Merlin grunts noncommittally and heads for his desk. Eggsy greets his coworkers and makes a beeline for the coffeemaker. He can at least butter Merlin up by making the first pot.

Eggsy turns down Harry’s street armed with photographs of Mr. Pickle, his map app, and a great deal of hope. He hates to think of giving Harry the news that there is still no sign of his dog, or…worse yet…telling him the horrible news of Mr. Pickle’s demise. He knocks on every door from end to end of the street but doesn’t get any new evidence. One woman does attempt to give him her phone number but he manages to politely decline. He then goes down the alley behind the houses, inspecting each back garden, shed, and rubbish area. Nothing.

“Where are you, boy?” Eggsy murmurs, glancing down at the pictures in his hand. He then looks up at Harry’s home. Today is Wednesday. Does Harry take a holiday on Wednesdays? Sleep in? Do laundry? Take himself out for brunch? “Holiday,” Eggsy says thoughtfully, remembering Harry’s comment about Violet Parsons. He goes around the corner and down to her house. He rings her bell and of course she doesn’t answer. Eggsy then goes down the street and back up the alley behind her house. He opens the back gate a crack and peeks in. Nothing.

Eggsy sighs and is about to turn around when he hears a high pitched whining sound. He opens the gate and steps into the garden. He looks around the shed and behind each bush but doesn’t see anything. He thinks he’s imagining things and turns to go when he hears the sound again. He ventures onto the porch and follows the sound to a large flower pot. “Mr. Pickle! How did you get here?” The dog whimpers and shivers but cuddles close when Eggsy picks him up. Eggsy holds him against his chest as he pulls out his mobile.

“Harry Hart.”

“Mr. Hart, this is Detective Sergeant Unwin.”

“Y-yes?”

“Could you please give me the name and address of your veterinarian and meet me there?”

Harry is walking up the pavement in front of the veterinarian as Eggsy exits a cab. “Detective, is that…is…” Eggsy slowly unfolds his suit jacket from the bundle in his arms. “Oh, Mr. Pickle!” Harry all but makes grabby hands.

“Let’s get him in to the doc, yeah? He seems okay but I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Of course.” Harry holds the door. “I called ahead, they are ready for him.”

Eggsy carefully hands the dog over to the vet tech and watches as Harry follows the tech into the back of the office, talking a mile a minute. He asks for the loo and washes his hands before sitting down in the waiting room. He texts Merlin and scrolls through some emails until Harry returns twenty minutes later. Eggsy stands up. “How is he?”

Harry stares at him for a moment before pulling him into an embrace. He releases him just as quickly and clears his throat. “I beg your pardon.”

“It’s fine,” Eggsy murmurs, trying to commit to memory the feeling of Harry’s body against his.

Harry pulls out an actual handkerchief and dabs at his eyes. “I don’t know how to thank you, Detective Unwin. How in the world did you find him?”

“I just remembered what you said about your neighbor watching him. It was a familiar place to him, and if he couldn’t find his way to you, he might try her house.”

“Brilliant,” Harry sighs. “He’s going to be fine. They want to keep him for a few days, get him hydrated, keep an eye on him. He somehow managed to feed himself, although I’m not sure how…the only thing he’s ever hunted is my slippers.” Harry shakes his head. “I…I owe you such a debt.”

“No, you don’t, Harry. Just doing my job.” Eggsy finds himself blushing.

“I do believe you’ve gone above and beyond your job requirements,” Harry contradicts. “And I will be writing a letter to your superiors lauding your performance.”

“Harry, that ain’t…I mean, that’s not necessary.”

“Indeed it is.” Harry takes his hand, shakes it, and then continues to hold it without apparently noticing. “I would like to invite you over for dinner as a token of my gratitude.”

“Oh,” Eggsy whispers. He’d like nothing more than an evening spent getting to know this man better. “I appreciate that, I do. But I can’t.” Harry’s face falls. “There’s a whole regulation about accepting gifts. Makes us look bad, like bribes or whatever? Even something as simple as this.”

“I understand, and I admire the way you’re trying to follow your rules and regulations.” Harry finally releases his hand and steps closer. “What if…what if I wasn’t inviting you as thanks for doing your job, but as something more…personal.”

“Personal?” Eggsy whispers, actually feeling weak as he looks up into Harry’s dark eyes.

“Yes. Such as a date.”

“A date?” Apparently Eggsy is only capable of mimicking Harry’s words. “With…with you?”

“Yes. I do not wish to embarrass you, but I noticed the way you looked at me when we first met…as if you were interested in me as more than just a citizen reporting a missing dog. And I must admit, you caught my attention as well.” Harry blushes and looks away, clearing his throat. “Unless my gaydar has grown rusty due to lack of use…it’s been ages since I asked someone out. If I’m wrong, I do most humbly beg your pardon.”

“No, Harry, you’re not wrong,” Eggsy murmurs.

Harry’s face lights up. “Excellent. Are you free on Friday evening?”

“Yes, unless something comes up with work.” Eggsy can’t believe what’s happening.

“Until Friday, then, Detective Unwin.”

“Eggsy,” he blurts out. Harry’s eyebrows go up. “My first name. Well, it’s Gary, actually, but my friends call me Eggsy.”

“That is a story I am eager to hear on Friday.” Harry holds the door for him and they step out onto the pavement. “I will see you at seven at my home?”

“Yeah,” Eggsy says, still in a daze. “See you then.” He watches Harry walk away and takes a few deep breaths. Bloody hell.

v


End file.
